


Second Chance at First Pack

by TVTime



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Affection, Affectionate Liam, Angst, Apologies, Bisexual Male Character, Coming Out, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Friendships, Drama, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jackson Feels, Jackson-centric, M/M, Making Up, Multi, Nightmares, Omega Jackson, Pack, Pack Bonding, Pack Cuddles, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Polyamorous Pack, Polyamory, Polypack, Psychological Trauma, Puppy Liam, Redemption, Self-Discovery, Sexual Humor, Spooning, Werewolf Jackson, father-son bonding, mother-son bonding, supportive parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 19:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TVTime/pseuds/TVTime
Summary: The last two years have been difficult for Jackson Whittemore. He never found a pack in London and grapples with constant loneliness and psychological trauma from his time as the kanima, but when he reconnects with Stiles Stilinski over Instagram, he finds himself being offered a second chance at a first pack.Each chapter of this story with the exception of the first chapter will feature Jackson bonding with or working through his issues with different packmates. The first chapter explores Jackson's relationship with his parents in London and sets the groundwork for his return to Beacon Hills.





	Second Chance at First Pack

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in the [“Cuddle Pack”](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/TheCuddlePack) story universe and takes place exclusively from Jackson’s POV. It won’t be necessary to read the other stories in that collection to follow this one, but doing so would certainly provide a deeper look at some of the other characters. I originally intended to wait and release the first chapter of this story along with the next chapter of [“Liam Dunbar: Cuddlewolf Extraordinaire,”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9639950/chapters/21777704) but this chapter features Jackson’s parents (it’s the only one that will. He moves back to Beacon Hills in chapter 2), so I thought it actually fit rather nicely as a Father’s Day chapter.

_Upside down. Scales. Claws skittering over ceiling tile._

_Where am I? Who is that guy?_

_Victim. Kill._

_I don’t know him._

_Kill._

_Tail swooshing. Tail reaching._

_No, don’t turn around! I’m going to– I don’t want to but I can’t–_

Jackson sputtered and sat up as a pillow slammed into his face.

“You fucking weird-arse freak!” Jackson’s roommate, James Pennwick, snatched his pillow back and returned to his bed. “Can’t we have one night where you don’t scream bloody murder at 3:00am?”

A year ago Jackson would have had a smart retort. Two years ago he would have kicked Pencildick’s ass. He mumbled an apology and rolled over.

Jackson hated London. He hated his stupid, all-boys boarding school. And he fucking hated being a werewolf.

No one had told him how miserable he would be after he turned. True, Derek Fucking Hale wasn’t a poster boy for carefree good cheer, and Scott McCall had become a sanctimonious twat after he turned, but Jackson had assumed that was because of their own deficient, non-personalities. He had been wrong.

Being a werewolf sucked. Yeah, the super strength, preternatural reflexes, and heightened senses were every bit as awesome as advertised, but Jackson had lost the ability to function like a normal person in society. When he wasn’t having nightmares and waking flashbacks to his time as the kanima, he was walking around with a soul-crushing emptiness in his chest. He had never felt content around his new classmates, even when it briefly looked like he might befriend some of them. It wasn't enough. Jackson hadn’t exactly made it a point to develop deep emotional relationships with his Beacon Hills friends, but now he found himself utterly unable to relate to any of the guys at his new school. And it wasn’t just because they were British – well maybe it was partially because they were British. _Arrogant wanker arseholes_ – but mostly it was because he couldn’t relate on a human level. Every interaction felt painfully superficial and meaningless. 

Jackson wondered if things would be different if he met another werewolf. Fat chance of that. As far as he knew he was the only werewolf in London. Perhaps werewolves were exclusive to California. He had figured out McCall was a werewolf without even knowing that werewolves existed, so he reckoned he’d be able to tell if any of the spoiled prats in his residence hall had the same _curse_ he had begged for. 

Jackson’s phone buzzed on his nightstand. As the screen lit up, Pencildick’s voice cut through the darkness.

“Seriously?! Do you want to just throw a fucking rager at the foot of my bed and be done with it?”

Jackson growled and pulled the blanket over his head to hide the light. 

“Oh that’s right, you’d need friends for that,” Pencildick muttered under his breath, legitimately under his breath. Jackson hadn’t been meant to hear it. That made the comment worse.

The message turned out to be an Instagram notification. Someone had liked one of Jackson’s posts. 

_Yay! Artificial validation from someone I probably don’t know in real life._ Jackson tried unsuccessfully to avoid adding, _who probably wouldn’t like me in real life._

He blinked in confusion as he tried to make sense of the notification. The post that had been liked was almost a year old. It was from holiday in Spain last summer. Jackson was wearing a Speedo on the beach. The user who liked the post was Stiles Stilinski. A reluctant grin formed on Jackson’s face as he thought about the loser spaz who occupied a time in Jackson’s life that, in retrospect, was much happier than his present existence. He decided to message Stilinski just for the nostalgia factor.

Jackson: _Wow. Creeping that far back takes dedication._

Stilinski didn’t respond right away, and Jackson fell asleep. He found a response the next morning.

Stilinski: _Worth it._ [winky face emoji]

Jackson laughed out loud. Stilinski was hitting on him. It wasn’t a surprise that he was attracted to Jackson – because _of course_ he was attracted to Jackson. The surprise was that he was actually doing something about it. The hyper freak he remembered from his hometown wouldn’t have had the nerve. Perhaps two years surviving the supernatural madness of Beacon Hills had changed him. Jackson had Facebook-stalked most of his old classmates; it’s not like he had new people in his life to keep tabs on. He wondered for the first time how serious Stilinski’s ever-changing relationship status was. Currently Stilinski claimed to be in a relationship with Isaac Lahey – which, fuck, if that were true the world might collapse in on itself under the weight of all that social awkwardness. Last week Stilinski’s Facebook had said he was dating a girl Jackson didn’t recognize, and the week before that, a boy Jackson didn’t recognize. Stilinski even occasionally claimed to be dating Lydia Martin. Lydia, Lahey, and the others all simply listed their relationship status as ‘it’s complicated,’ so there was no way to know for sure, but Jackson had assumed it was all an absurd joke.

On a whim, after getting ready for the day, but before putting on his shirt, he snapped a selfie and sent it to Stilinski. 

Jackson: _Fuck you from the UK_

In the picture Jackson was giving Stilinski the ‘two-finger salute.’ He wondered if he’d understand it. He hoped he wouldn’t so that Jackson could make fun of him when he responded. He also...well he also hoped that Stilinski would respond. 

Jackson dressed in his uniform, went to the dining hall for breakfast, then spent the next hour revising for exams. His school had agreed, thanks no doubt to a donation from his parents, to make special arrangements for Jackson to graduate early provided he did well on his exams. Of course he would do well. School had always been easy for Jackson, and now that he had no social or athletic lives to balance with it, it was even easier. 

Jackson’s phone buzzed as he was putting away his things to leave for his first exam of the day. He tried not to be disappointed that the message was in his group thread with his parents rather than from Stilinski. No big deal. There was an eight-hour time difference. Stilinski was probably just asleep. Besides, it’s not like Jackson actually cared if he responded. 

Mom: _Good luck, honey. You’re going to do great! Love you._

Jackson: _Thanks. I’ll call you when I’m done. Love you too._

Jackson’s relationship with his parents was the only good thing to come out of his time in London. He had become depressed shortly after moving and had spent a week sulking in his room at their new flat, refusing to go to school. Jackson’s parents had been unexpectedly supportive, and he had ended up telling them about his lycanthropy. Bizarrely, his revelation had only brought them closer as a family, and the reality that they had accepted him made Jackson feel truly wanted for the first time since he had learned about his adoption.

His parents had offered to find Jackson a new school, but the school itself wasn’t really the problem. He had been the one to pick it out when they first moved. It was one of the best schools in London, and Jackson did want it on his transcripts. Besides, although living at home with his parents would have been preferable, he had hoped, at least at first, that a boarding school environment would help him acclimate more quickly and make friends. Yeah, not so much, but a new school wouldn’t fix that. As much as he _hated_ it, Jackson had grown to accept the reality that what was missing from his life was a pack. Being an omega sucked, but he couldn’t just randomly change schools on the off chance one of them might be populated by werewolves. Werewolves probably didn’t exist in England. 

Jackson also hadn’t encountered any other werewolves during his short trips to France, Spain, Belgium, and Germany, but as soon as he passed his exams and graduated early, he was taking a gap year and going on an extended excursion throughout the European Union. Thank god Brexit hadn’t gone into effect yet, and he would still have the convenience of easy travel.

Jackson’s exams went about as well as he was expecting, which was to say almost perfectly. It was Wednesday and he was told to expect his grades by the end of the week. Technically, he was supposed to attend classes as usual until he got final confirmation, and if he didn’t pass everything he would have to complete the term normally, but that simply wasn’t a concern. As soon as he got back to his room, he packed a light bag and prepared to leave. His parents could send someone for the rest of his things, and worst case scenario if he actually had to come back he would only have missed Thursday and Friday.

There wasn’t anyone Jackson needed to say goodbye to, but there was someone he might not mind seeing one more time. Jackson didn’t know when he might get another chance to have a hookup, probably not until after he left for the Continent in over a week, so he sat down on the edge of his bed and tapped out a quick text.

Jackson: _About to leave. Fancy one more shag?_

Ben: _You’re such a tosser Whittemore. Stop trying to sound British. But yeah, meet at mine?_

Jackson: _Pencildick won’t be back till late. You come to me if you want it._

Ben: _Arsehole._

Jackson: _Not for you. I’m going to bend you over and make you beg for my cock._

Ben: _Christ Whittemore. Be there soon._

Jackson: _I bet you will._

Jackson planned to switch back to girls as soon as he left the all-boys school. He hadn’t realized his sexuality was as fluid as it was until he had gotten desperate and accepted one of his classmate’s advances. He had been as desperate for the personal validation as he had been for the sex, but he would never admit that, even to himself. In the back of his mind he knew he had only put out because his looks were the only thing anyone at his new school liked about him and something was better than nothing, but that reality was better left way way in the back of his mind.

It turned out Jackson enjoyed sex whether it was with girls or with guys, but he was picky and Ben was one of the few guys at school who met his standards. He was good-looking and someone whose company Jackson could tolerate long enough to get off. It helped that Ben smelled good, unlike most of the guys at their school. Since becoming a werewolf people’s scents had become almost as important to Jackson as their looks. There were plenty of girls whose personal scents Jackson didn’t care for, but the cosmetic fragrances they added helped make them bearable. Jackson had grown to enjoy the scent of men’s cologne, but few of the guys bothered with it on a daily basis for school, and their deodorant, soap, and shampoo tended to be too bland to cover up an unappealing personal scent. Ben didn't need anything artificial to smell incredible.

Jackson both heard and smelled Ben coming and opened the door before he could knock.

“You have ears like a bat.”

“Well your face looks like it’s been mauled by beavers,” Jackson answered. It didn’t. Ben’s face was an ideal blend of classically handsome and adorably cute.

“There aren’t any beavers in the UK.” Ben stepped into the room and pulled the door shut behind him.

Jackson reached past him and locked it. “Actually I read in an article that they’re making a comeback.”

“You’re such a nerd, Whittemore.” Ben laughed, but before Jackson could take offense, he fisted the front of Jackson’s shirt and yanked him forward into a kiss.

Things burned hot and fast between them and there was barely any foreplay before Ben was bent over Jackson’s desk, clutching the edge and panting as Jackson railed him. Jackson let himself get rough since it was their last time. There would be bruises on Ben’s shoulders and hips tomorrow, and he was going to feel Jackson’s fuck for days in his ass. Jackson liked that Ben wouldn’t be able to just turn around and fuck someone else as soon as Jackson left...well he’d be able to _fuck_ someone else, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to be offering up his hole anytime soon.

“Good lord, were you trying to split me in half?” Ben asked when they were done and his load was spattered across the top of Jackson’s empty desk.

“I didn’t hear you asking me to stop,” Jackson responded as he tied off the condom and tossed it in the wastebasket next to the desk. Leaving it in plain sight would be a nice final ‘fuck you’ to James Pencildick Pennwick.

Ben’s already flushed cheeks darkened slightly. “Didn’t say I didn’t like it.” He dragged an arm across the desk, using the sleeve of his uniform shirt to wipe up his spilled load. 

It was such a gross thing to do…and also kind of hot. Jackson committed it to memory.

“Well, anyway...” Jackson had no idea what to say. “Maybe we’ll run into each other around the city.”

Unlikely. London was fucking huge.

Ben arched his eyebrows and crossed his arms as he leaned back against the desk, pants still around his ankles. “Or we could text. Meet up intentionally.”

“Why would we do that?” Jackson asked in a cruel tone. His chest pounded with a surge of adrenaline. He had won! Ben wanted to stay in touch. He wanted to be Jackson’s friend. Jackson shrugged and smirked. “We’re not friends.”

Ben flinched and his face crumpled. Shit. 

“You need so much therapy, Whittemore.” Ben’s composure was already back and his accent was as posh as Jackson had ever heard it. Even his half-hard prick and pasty thighs did nothing to undermine his dignity. 

“Right. Because I must be crazy if I don’t want to be your friend.” Jackson might not have been British, but he could be as condescending as anyone.

“You do want to be my friend, Jackass.” He pulled up his pants and straightened his rumpled shirt. “And you could have been.”

Ben left the room without looking back, but his slight limp _did_ undermine his dignity, and Jackson snickered before Ben slammed the door. 

After showering and ordering a taxi to take him to his parents’ flat, Jackson found a couple of messages from Stilinski in reference to the shirtless, ‘fuck you’ pic he had sent him that morning.

Stilinski: _Damn!_ [thumbs up emoji]

Stilinski: _But don’t make promises you can’t keep._ [winky face emoji]

Jackson: _Who says I can’t keep it?_

Jackson was almost to his parents’ flat when Stilinski responded.

Stilinski: _Geography. And your sexuality._

So maybe just geography then. Jackson took a moment to consider whether or not he’d hypothetically throw Stilinski a bone. Nah, that would be too weird. Although he had just gotten off. Perhaps he’d reconsider if he was horny and Stilinski was all that was available. For now he slipped his phone in his pocket without responding. It was morning in Beacon Hills. He could reply anytime this evening and expect a prompt response. Stilinski could wait the way Jackson had to.

“Honey, you’re home!” Jackson’s mom threw her arms around him and pecked his cheeks with a rapid succession of kisses. She was always so dramatic.

Jackson didn’t mind anymore. He squeezed her as tight as was safe with his werewolf strength and discreetly inhaled her scent. It was soothing. She smelled like home even though the place he considered their true home was over five thousand miles away.

“Lana, let the boy get inside.”

“Dad!?” Jackson could have detected his presence if he’d been looking for it, but he hadn’t expected him to be home. “I thought you’d still be at work.”

Jackson’s dad laughed, and he hugged Jackson as soon as he had stepped out of the doorway and shut the door. “I wanted to see you. I’m proud of you, Jack. Graduating early’s a big deal.”

Warmth bloomed in Jackson’s chest. His dad was a notorious workaholic. Him being home this early for Jackson made it _feel_ like a big deal.

After visiting with his parents for a few more minutes, Jackson went upstairs to his room to get settled in. He found another new message from Stilinski. _Of course_ he wouldn’t understand how pathetic it made him look to text Jackson back-to-back like that without waiting for a reply.

Stilinski: _So how are you doing, man? Like in life._

Jackson frowned. It was Stilinski’s first non-flirtatious message, and Jackson didn’t like it. Stilinski could hit on him if he wanted, but he didn’t like him pretending to care on a personal level. If he and Ben weren’t friends, he and Stilinski sure as fuck weren’t either. Jackson didn’t want to let on that Stilinski had gotten under his skin.

Jackson: _Oh really, in life? I assumed you meant in video games._

By the time Jackson had unpacked his bag, Stilinski had already responded.

Stilinski: _Nah, I know the great Jackson Whitmoore is too good for humble first person shooters_

Jackson: _Seriously? It’s Whittemore. How can you not know how to spell my name? It’s written out on my frickin Instagram._

Stilinski: _Oh I’m sorry. I guess memorizing the spelling of your name wasn’t at the top of my priorities list._ [hand flipping someone off emoji]

Jackson responded with a matching emoji. Then since it would be an opportunity to brag a little, he answered Stilinski’s original question.

Jackson: _I graduated early today._

Stilinski: _Oh, so do you graduate late on other days?_

Jackson was in the middle of changing his clothes so instead of responding with an emoji, he decided to wind Stilinski up with another shirtless pic, this time in which he was flipping him off American style.

Stilinski: _Dude, that’s really awesome! Congrats!_

Stilinski: _Also good job on the graduation thing._

Jackson laughed and rolled his eyes. 

He went downstairs to discuss dinner plans with his parents. They wanted to take him out to celebrate, but he wasn’t in the mood. They ended up ordering in instead.

Back in Beacon Hills when they ate dinner together they did it at the dining room table on fine china while being served by their maid. His mom would drink too much wine and his dad would rant about politics and work. Tonight they served themselves on ceramic plates and his parents sat on the sofa while Jackson took a nearby armchair. His mom drank tea and the three of them reminisced about Jackson’s early school years. It was embarrassing...and kind of fun.

“I don’t think you would have survived first grade without Danny.” Jackson’s mom tittered with laughter and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin.

Jackson huffed and gave her an imperious scowl. “Of course I would have!” He laughed and let the smile break over his face. “But Danny helped.”

“I wonder how Danny’s doing these days,” Jackson’s dad remarked with feigned casualness. 

Jackson’s smile faded and he shrugged. “Dunno.”

Jackson and Danny had stayed in touch on and off for the first year after Jackson moved to London, but the following year when Danny moved to Hawaii their communications had trickled to a stop. Jackson’s parents wanted him to try again with a long-distance friendship, but it would feel forced at this point. Besides, Jackson had quit calling Danny and gradually ignored more and more of his messages in large part because he didn’t like Danny’s questions about his life. What was he supposed to say? _Yeah, I’m completely miserable all the time. Thank you for asking._

Conversation shifted to Jackson’s upcoming European jaunt.

“Do you have to leave so soon, honey?” Mom asked, setting her plate on the coffee table.

“I’m staying until after the full moon,” Jackson answered, a defensive edge creeping into his tone. That was over a week away, plenty of time to spend with his parents. He suspected that at least part of the reason for his improved relationship with them was that he _didn’t_ spend every day with them.

“Yes, but what about the next full moon?”

Was that it? Did she think he was going to lose control and attack someone?

“I’ll be fine.”

Mom started to protest but Dad’s hand on her knee stopped her. 

“He needs to find a pack, Lana.”

Jackson didn’t care for the way his dad emphasized the words ‘needs,’ as though Jackson would be a wreck if it didn’t happen. It was true, but...

“I know. I just wish he could find one closer to home.” She leaned her head against Dad’s shoulder, and he draped his arm around her in response. Their relationship was on an upswing too. Leaving Beacon Hills had been good for their marriage. Jackson supposed his mom’s newfound sobriety had helped as well.

That night Jackson went to sleep early, hoping it would be one of the rare nights when he slept soundly. It wasn’t. As usual, in his nightmare he was the kanima, only instead of dreaming about one of the real-life murders he had committed, his dream fused his monster past with his mundane present. He was in his room at school, slithering across the ceiling out of sight. Ben was there, and in the dream Jackson knew they had made plans to hook up....well actually that was the only reason Ben had _ever_ been in his room, so that part was realistic. Suddenly Jackson dropped from the ceiling behind Ben and pinned him against the desk. Ben _wasn’t_ alarmed at first, but then Jackson preceded to rip his pants off and fuck him with his spiked tail. It was horrifyingly graphic, and Ben was a bloody, screaming mess by the time Jackson awoke with a gasping shout.

“Honey, are you okay?” Mom was in his doorway, the hall light shining behind her.

Jackson ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair and took a deep breath. “Fine Mom.”

She entered his room anyway, leaving the door ajar for light. She sat on the edge of his bed and rubbed his back.

“Was it another kimono dream?”

Jackson barked out a sharp laugh even though it wasn’t the first time she had phrased it that way. “Yeah, Mom, it was another kimono dream.”

Her face grew serious. She squeezed his shoulders and leaned her head against his. “None of that was your fault, baby. You couldn’t have stopped it. It wasn’t you.”

Jackson shook his head and narrowly resisted pulling away from her. He wanted to believe what she was telling him, but it wasn’t true. It _was_ he who had slaughtered those people, maybe not consciously, but it was. Worse, it had only happened _because_ of who he was. McCall hadn’t turned into a monster. Lahey hadn’t turned into a monster. Erica and Boyd hadn’t turned into monsters. He was the only one who was such a horrible person that his insides reflected a mindless killing machine instead of a werewolf. 

“Honey, it _wasn’t_ your fault,” Mom said, her voice rising as Jackson began to shake. 

Jackson whimpered and closed his eyes. This was why he didn’t have a pack. He didn’t deserve one.

“Tomorrow we’re going to find you a doctor and–”

“No!” Jackson shook her off and glared at her. “I am not going to therapy.”

“It helped me with my problems, and–”

“Your problems were _human_ problems. What am I supposed to do? Talk about the time I grew scales and murdered a bunch of people with my spiked tail because I was under the thrall of a couple of psychopaths? They’d have me fucking committed!”

She frowned and leaned away from him, giving him his space. It wasn’t what he wanted despite the signals he was sending. 

“Do you think it’ll get better once you have a pack?”

“I’m never going to have a pack. No one wants me.”

“Your father and I want you.” She wrapped her arm around him and rubbed his shoulder.

It was a testament to the last two years that Jackson didn’t argue with her or say something sarcastic and mean.

“Yeah well, just you guys.”

“You just wait. I bet you’re going to have a pack full of people who can’t get enough of you.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m going to go make you some cocoa, and then let’s see if we can find a decent movie.”

Jackson smiled and nodded. Taking her up on the offer made him feel like a child, but there had been a distance between them for much of his childhood that had prevented this type of bonding. Why not take the opportunity now? Besides, it was preferable to going back to sleep and reliving more of his crimes.

After his mom left the room, Jackson decided to text Stilinski. He had asked Jackson what was going on in his life after all, and Jackson could use the ego boost that would come with more bragging.

Jackson: _I’m taking a gap year to tour Europe._

Stilinski: _Wait, a cute English boy named JACKson is taking a gap year...why is this sounding so familiar?_

Jackson furrowed his brow. He had no idea what Stilinski was talking about. He didn’t reply, but was still dicking around on his phone when he got another message.

Stilinski: _Anyway, why are you always up in the middle of the night your time?_

Jackson: _The club scene is LIT in London_ [champaign emoji] [flame emoji]

Stilinski: _Some people never change_

Jackson's eyes flashed at how utterly wrong Stilinski was. His life was so fucking different now. He tapped out a furious reply.

Jackson: _I was being sarcastic, asshole. I haven’t been out ONCE since I left Beacon Hills. I haven’t even been to a fucking house party._

He jabbed the send button, jaw clenched as he glared daggers at the screen. It was a few moments before it dawned on him that he absolutely should _not_ have sent a message like that to Stilinski. _Fuck._ He had just torpedoed his own reputation.

He put his phone on silent, plugged it into the charger, and placed it face down on his nightstand. He was still shaken up from his nightmare and he couldn’t cope with anymore drama tonight. He didn’t even want to know when Stilinski responded.

Jackson’s mom returned a little while later and saved him from dwelling on his problems any further. They drank cocoa and watched _Mrs. Doubtfire._ It was the first time Jackson had ever seen it, and it was hilarious.

The next morning Jackson was surprised to find both his parents in the kitchen.

“What are you doing here?” Jackson asked his dad as his mom fixed him a plate of the breakfast they’d had delivered.

“I live here,” Dad answered with a smirk. He took a sip of coffee and patted Jackson’s arm. “I’m not going to work today. Your mom and I thought it would be fun if the three of us did some of the touristy stuff we never did when we first moved.”

“Why now?”

“Well...because it might be our last chance to do it as a family.”

“Oh David, of course it won’t be!” Mom frowned at him and her voice broke as she continued. “Jackson isn’t leaving forever.”

“But he’ll have his own life, Lana.” Dad’s tone was gentle and it didn’t sound like the first time he was saying this to her. “He’ll be too busy to go with his parents to the Tower of London or Westminster Abbey.”

She cleared her throat and set Jackson’s plate in front of him. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Jackson coughed and looked between them, wishing he was the kind of person who knew what to say in situations like this. “I’ve always wanted to see the Tower of London.”

That was evidently good enough because the conversation lightened after that, and they had a pleasant breakfast. Once they were done eating, Jackson went to his room to get ready for his day of...sightseeing? It was weird after two years in the city, but not altogether unappealing. He reluctantly checked his messages when he took his phone off the charger. 

Stilinski: _At least you’ve been wearing speedos in Spain. That sounds pretty fun_

Stilinski: _(Looked pretty fun too)_

Two hours later he had sent a third message.

Stilinski: _So club scene aside, what’s the werewolf scene like in London? Crazy as BH?_

Jackson growled. He was over whatever bout of nostalgic insanity had possessed him to voluntarily communicate with Stiles Stilinski. He had zero tact and the same lifelong tendency to say the worst possible thing.

Jackson: _No. I’m literally the only werewolf in London. In all of fucking Europe as far as I know. Look, just leave me alone and go back to perving on my old pics. I don’t need to be interrogated by a loser from Nowheresville, California._

Jackson thought about blocking him but didn’t. A small part of him was curious if Stilinski would have the guts to respond. He would likely be sleeping now, so Jackson would have to wait to find out.

Despite his irritation with Stilinski that morning, Jackson had one of his best days since moving to London. They went to St Paul's Cathedral and Westminster Abbey, watched the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace, visited the Tower of London and the Houses of Parliament, and pretended they were crossing London Bridge for the first time. Jackson snapped a picture of Big Ben and decided it was much more impressive than Ben’s...clock tower. 

They considered going to a nice restaurant and having a gourmet meal for lunch, but opted to have fish & chips on the go instead to keep the experience more authentic. Jackson’s dad even pretended they were lost at one point and accosted a stodgy older couple to hound them for directions. Jackson couldn’t keep a straight face as the couple left muttering about rude American tourists. 

They did go out to eat at a Michelin-starred restaurant for dinner, where they toasted Jackson’s early graduation. His mom had club soda, and they discussed Jackson's plans for his upcoming trip.

Jackson was in a good mood when he went to sleep that night, and once again hoped that he might escape his nightmares. He could usually count on one or two good nights a week, and it _seemed_ like this would be one of them. It wasn’t, but at least he didn’t wake up in a cold sweat, or worse, screaming. He even felt like he would be okay going back to sleep, but decided to get a glass of water first and made his way downstairs.

The light was on in Dad’s study and Jackson glanced at the clock. It was almost two in the morning. He wasn’t surprised. He had expected his dad to make up the work he’d missed.

He crept past the study door as quietly as he could and went to the kitchen. As he was adding ice to his glass, his dad walked in.

“Jack, did you have another nightmare?”

“Yeah, but not a bad one. I woke up before things got out of hand.” Jackson poured water into his glass. “I didn’t mean to bother you.” 

Apologizing for disturbing people because of his nightmares was second nature to Jackson now. It was weird how effectively it tended to diffuse the situation. Even Pencildick would usually shut up and leave him alone after a perfunctory apology.

“You didn’t. I was listening for you.”

Jackson took a sip from his glass and cocked his head. “Why?”

Dad snorted and leaned against the doorframe. “Your mother doesn’t have a monopoly on reassurances.”

Jackson laughed. “You sure? It kinda seems like she does.”

The man frowned, and Jackson realized how that had come out.

“I was kidding!” Jackson raised his hand and gave his dad an apologetic look. Fuck. He had been trying to say something nice about his mom and it had come out as a backhanded comment against his dad. 

Dad took a seat at the kitchen table and gave Jackson an expectant nod. Jackson sat down next to him.

“I love you, son.”

“I love you too,” Jackson mumbled, staring at the table. It was easier to say via text, or even over the phone.

“I just want to make sure you know that.” He placed his hand over Jackson’s.

Jackson looked up. “Of course I do.”

Jackson meant it. The last two years had removed any doubts he might have once had about how his parents felt about him.

Dad patted Jackson’s hand then pulled his own back. “I don’t want you to go abroad.”

Jackson opened his mouth to protest, but before he could Dad continued.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t, and I’m not trying to stop you or make you feel guilty. I’m just saying I’ll miss you.”

Jackson nodded. “I know.”

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for, and that’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t you,” Jackson answered without even thinking it over. “I was kinda the one who pulled away and got weird.”

“Well, I was kinda the adult who let you.” Dad took a long breath. “I thought I was giving you your space, but you were just a kid. I should have given you a hug instead, and kept doing it until you got it through your head that you didn’t have anything to prove to anyone.”

Jackson couldn't deny that he had been trying to live up to invisible standards, but they hadn't all been his dad’s.

“What happened to me wasn’t your fault. I-I wanted the Bite for a lot of reasons.”

Dad was silent for a moment then patted Jackson's wrist on the table.

“What you went through was terrible, but–”

“What I _became_ was terrible,” Jackson corrected.

“But you’re not broken, Jack. I know you regret your decision, and I do too. If I ever see Derek Hale I’m going to punch him in the face.”

“He’s a werewolf.”

“I’m a dad.”

Jackson laughed and tried again at the being nice thing. “Yeah, I guess you’d win.”

Dad smiled at him. “What I’m saying is, there’s nothing wrong with you now, Jack. The kanima is gone, and becoming a werewolf didn’t make you a bad person.” He squeezed Jackson's hand and held eye contact. “I’m very proud of the man you’ve become.”

Jackson was quiet, letting his dad’s words wash over him. He sniffled and cleared his throat. His eyes were burning as he stood. “I, uh, better go back to bed.” 

Dad also cleared his throat and stood. “Yeah, and I have some more work to do.”

They exchanged a long hug. Jackson left the kitchen feeling happy and loved, but ironically even more like he didn’t measure up.

It was difficult being told he wasn’t broken when he was, that what happened wasn’t his fault when it was, that his parents were proud of him when...when they really had no reason to be. Perhaps he had deserved their approval back in Beacon Hills, back when he was the captain of the lacrosse team, popular, and dating the most attractive girl in school, back when he didn’t have any blood on his hands, back when he hadn’t literally proven himself to be a coldblooded snake on the inside. But now? Now he didn't have anything left and there was nothing to be proud of.

Stilinski: _It must suck being an omega_

Jackson had read Stilinski’s latest message before he had gone to sleep. He looked at it again. It was a dick thing to say. Stilinski was lashing out because of Jackson’s previous message. Jackson responded anyway.

Jackson: _Yeah, it really fucking does_

Jackson was almost asleep when his phone buzzed.

Stilinski: _You don’t have to be. You can come home. You can join our pack._

Jackson read the message five times before he even thought about responding. Hope had poured over him, but then…

Jackson: _Pretty sure it’s not your call_

Stilinski: _Pretty sure we both know I make all of Scott’s decisions_ [winky face emoji]

Jackson: _Scott?_

Stilinski: _Scott is the alpha now. Derek’s gone. Alive, but gone._

Jackson blinked and tried to make sense of what he was reading. Derek was _gone?_ And _McCall_ was the alpha?

Stilinski: _Get your sexy ass back here Jackson. I wanna start hitting on you in person._

Jackson: _Are you serious? Is this a real offer?_

Stilinski: _Yes, I’ll totally hit on you in person._

Jackson wanted to scream at him to take this seriously. His fucking life was hanging in the balance.

Stilinski: _It’s a real offer. Scott will want you to join._

Jackson considered the statement. It seemed...plausible. If McCall was the alpha he would accept Jackson. Derek wouldn’t have, which was why Jackson had never considered going back to Beacon Hills to have a pack.

Jackson typed the most important message of his life.

Jackson: _Yes, I want to come back._

As far as life-changing messages went, that one was rather dull. It did, however, get the job done.

Stilinski: _OK_

Jackson had what felt like a happiness panic attack. His chest got tight. His heart raced. He couldn’t breathe. He even felt dizzy.

It was the best feeling in the world. He couldn’t stop grinning and laughing as he worked out the details with Stilinski.

The next morning Jackson all but skipped into the kitchen to have breakfast with his parents.

“You’re up early.” Mom kissed his cheek.

“Yep!” Jackson had wanted to make sure he caught his dad before work. He gave him a quick hug before sitting down in the seat he had occupied the night before. “I have some news.”

Once Mom had stopped fixing Jackson’s plate and joined them at the table, Jackson continued.

“I’m not going to Europe.”

His parents exchanged stunned looks.

“But you need to find a pack,” Mom said.

“I found one!” Jackson couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“What? Where?”

“Are they far? How did you find them?”

“Beacon Hills. I’m going back to Beacon Hills. Stiles Stilinski invited me to join the pack there.”

“Derek Hale’s pack?” A scowl formed on Dad’s face.

“No, Derek went” –Jackson waved a hand. He hadn’t asked for details– “somewhere. Scott McCall’s the alpha now.”

“Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall?” Mom smiled. “I like them.”

“Me too,” Dad said. “They're good guys. We still owe them an apology for that misunderstanding.”

Jackson’s parents had _hated_ Stilinski and McCall following Jackson’s kidnapping and the subsequent restraining order he had taken out against them, but their opinions had done a complete one-eighty when Jackson came out about all things supernatural and explained the kanima business. Now his parents seemed to view Stilinski and McCall, along with Lydia, as Jackson’s saviors. 

“Is Lydia involved with that pack?” Mom asked on cue.

Jackson smirked. “Yeah Mom.”

“Do you think the two of you might rekindle things?” she asked with a hopeful gleam in her eye.

“I don’t know about that.” Jackson did know about that. It was a awful idea. In retrospect they had been terrible for each other.

“What about Isaac Lahey, is he still around?” Dad asked, concern etched across his face.

“Oh yes, is he?” Mom asked. “I can’t believe we never realized what he was going through. I feel sick every time I think about it.”

“Yeah, he’s around, and he’s fine now. Apparently he and Stilinski are dating.”

“I didn’t know they were gay,” Dad said, mild surprise in his voice.

“Me either,” Mom said.

“They’re not. They’re bisexual.” Jackson saw an opportunity he had been waiting for and went for it. “Like me.”

Mom’s jaw dropped and Dad’s eyes widened. They gave each other confused looks, then they were on their feet hugging Jackson and voicing their support.

“It’s not a big deal,” Jackson muttered, patting their backs and signaling that he wanted the fanfare to end. 

“How long have you known, honey?” Mom asked as she returned to her seat. Dad had also reclaimed his spot.

“Only since London.”

“How did you figure it out?” she asked.

“Uhm...”

“Lana, he was at an all-boys boarding school. I think it’s obvious how he figured it out.”

“Oh!” Her cheeks flushed, and she gave Jackson a smile. “Well good for you, honey. What a great example of out-of-the-box thinking!”

“Yeah, I’m a creative problem solver.”

Everyone laughed and Jackson filled them in on the details of his move. He and Stilinski had agreed that it made sense for Jackson to stay in London until after the full moon as he’d originally planned. It would give him a chance to spend more time with his parents, and this way the pack would be less territorial and tense when he arrived. Jackson would also be more relaxed, and it would give Stilinski time to prepare the pack, even though according to him, Jackson joining was a done deal. Jackson knew it wouldn't be quite that easy, especially with Lydia and Lahey, but he didn’t care about the hurdles. He was finally going to have a pack, and that was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> I find Jackson to be the single most challenging _Teen Wolf_ character to write (I’ve previously written his POV in my Jackson, Isaac, and the Whittemores family fic [“A Street Over and a World Away”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8553079/chapters/19609624)). I ended up obsessively analyzing every line of dialogue or thought he had. So I’d really appreciate feedback on what you guys thought of his characterization and personality in this story. I wanted him to seem like the Jackson from canon, but with the perspective that two years as an omega and coping with the kanima trauma would bring.
> 
> Anyway, the next chapter will be a ‘double event’ co-released with the tenth chapter of [“Liam Dunbar: Cuddlewolf Extraordinaire”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9639950/chapters/21777704) as Jackson returns to Beacon Hills. Again, it won’t be necessary to read that chapter/story of the Liam fic to understand this one, but the second chapter will focus on Jackson bonding with Liam – specifically because he’ll be the easiest. Despite the Jackson & Stiles communications in this chapter, they have a lot of issues to work out, and the same goes for Jackson with Scott, Lydia, and Isaac. I’m also planning a Jackson & Malia chapter. I promise at least that many chapters of this story (Liam, Stiles, Scott, Isaac, Lydia, and Malia, in no particular order other than Liam being next), but there certainly may be other chapters too. There _may_ also be romance on the horizon between Jackson and one or more of those aforementioned characters, so opinions on that are welcome. There won’t be explicit sex. I like writing smut, but not for the ‘Cuddle Pack’ story world. Honestly, I felt like the Jackson/Ben scene was a bit too much for this story verse and debated toning it down or removing it, but I felt it was important for Jackson’s characterization so I didn’t.
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated!


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